No Power in the Verse
by CommanderAlicia
Summary: It's been six years since Hiccup lost his leg, his father, and his freedom in the Unification War. With the Alliance bearing down hard on Independent livelihoods, he and Astrid have their own ship and crew, taking what jobs they can to keep Serenity flying. Between enemies old and new, they'll find that there's no power in the 'verse they won't go up against. Space/Firefly AU


**This first chapter is kind of a test drive (heh). Knowledge of the Firefly 'verse might help, but isn't necessary.**

A grenade dropped into the dust a few yards past the barricade from Hiccup's crouched form with a solid thud. "Night fury! Get down!" He threw himself to the side, dragging the soldier next to him as far behind the rickety wooden supports as they could get. Hands over ears, head down.

The blast tore through the improvised cover, rocks and chunks of wood bounding against Hiccup's leather coat. The soldier next to him was shaking, young face hidden in the baggy brown uniform sleeves.

"You're all right, you hear me?" Hiccup tugged the man up by the elbow, looking him in the eye. "You're fine."

Another explosion echoed close by, the sound of bullets striking metal even closer. He looked around the corner where the Night Fury had struck. The rather unassuming grenade had blasted a shell in the dusty soil of Serenity Valley, an open space free for the Alliance lasers and bullets to find an easy, stupid, target.

"Long way around," he mumbled, hauling along the soldier, stepping over the bodies and under the rocky outcropping. He paused at a peep hole in the barricade, peering through the camo netting. The hot flash of an explosion above lit the rocky terrain long enough to see the four guns aimed at the trenches from around boulders.

Don't stop. Don't think. "Cover me." He pulled the gun slung over his shoulder into position. Step up on an overturned crate. Fire. The sound didn't hit his ears as it had in the past. He felt the rebound of the firearm against his torso, but his mind went numb at the Alliance soldiers falling to the dry ground.

The soldier managed to hit one, looking worse for wear when Hiccup checked on him, sweat beading on his forehead, cheeks pale in the light of fires around them.

Hiccup turned at the sound of heavy boots crunching over the rocks, quickly pacing over the dusty gravel. Astrid troted around the corner, an Alliance gun in hand. Her braid was tucked into her jacket and the sweat on her cheeks left dusty smudges. Through the urgency, her eyes flashed with relief at seeing the pair of them. "Thought that Night Fury might've gotten you."

Hiccup glanced back at the hole blasted into the earth. Smoke drifted through the air, gunpowder and ferrous blood suddenly all the more evident. "Not—"

A deafening rattle of a machine gun. Empty space where Astrid was standing. Three warm drops of blood on his cheek.

Hiccup woke in the cold dry air of Serenity. The dark of the cabin crept over his sweaty back and found its way inside his ribs, right into his pounding heart. The yellowing lights next to the stairs stood out against the blackness. Alive. You're alive. She's alive. Everyone's alive except for _him_. _Lost plenty of things in that valley that ain't never coming back_, the dark voice in his head whispers.

Forcing down the panic, the depression that welled up in the night, when everyone else was sleeping, Hiccup reached around in the darkness, fishing for the cold metal of his prosthetic. Gunshots echo in his ears. Just out of the corner of his eye, he can see the explosions.

Anything to distract him. He watched for any movements from Astrid—she'd only worry if she woke up to find him in such a state—but his wife didn't stir. His hands were still trembling as he pulled the straps tight around his knee. Serenity needed some attention anyway.

The digital clock next to the sink read 0347 when he pulled the ladder out of the bunk open. He glanced to Astrid, sure she'd wake at the squeal of old gears, but she only rolled over, spreading out over the rest of the bed. A small bunk with Astrid Haddock wasn't always the easiest place to sleep. He'd thought he'd be done fighting his battles after the war ended, but every other night was a battle for space on the mattress.

The air in the corridor was cool and still. He peered onto the bridge, but the chairs in front of the panels sat empty. The windows were mostly pitch black, save for the terraformed planet in front of them, an anchor against the emptiness of its surroundings.

Clunking unevenly along the grilled floor, Hiccup headed for the engine room. Quiet nights alone with Serenity straightened his mind, a distraction from his mutinous thoughts.

His fingers drifted along the dining table as he passed through the kitchen, and then rested on the frame of the door to the engine room as he surveyed the mess he'd left it in.

He could hear Astrid's voice in his head, "you can't be the mechanic and the captain!" But he could never leave Serenity in the care of someone else while he just sat on the bridge with Fishlegs.

As Hiccup got down to work, the heavy odor of oil and grease eased the thoughts of Serenity Valley. His mind drifted into safer territory, of gears and engines, converters and pipes.

Just as he was in the middle of connecting up the pressure coil to its redirected intake valve, on his back under one of the main support bars, something nudged his leg.

He yelped, fumbling the wrench and dropping it on his face. "Gorram it! Hell, what's—"

Astrid peered under the engine. "Hiccup?" One tie of her blue and green kimono robe trailed behind her.

Holding the aching knot on his forehead, he scooted out from under the engine while his wife winced and mumbled a quick apology. "What are you doing up?"

She leaned back, bare feet sticking out from under the green silk hem. "What am _I_ doing up? At four thirty in the morning?"

Hiccup took in the raised-eyebrow look she was giving him and shrugged. "Sure."

Astrid reached out for his hand, face falling. He looked away but she bent down to his eye level. "Hiccup, it's the nightmares again, isn't it? I know you don't want to talk about it, but if you'd just let me know how I can—"

A flash of impatience drew his brows low over his eyes. "You'd be having nightmares too if you lost half as much as I did."

She held fast to his hand when he tried to pull away. "I have nightmares and the only thing I lost was the war. Six years and not a day I ain't got it on my mind. I of all people might be able to understand what you're goin' through."

He shook his head. "And I'm any different? Can you even imagine waking up after two weeks on the losing side of a war that's everything you believe in? Waking up with one less gorram leg?" He gestured to his prosthetic. "One less parent? Ain't no way I can talk my way out of all that crap."

She pulled away, shoulders tensing. "Didn't need to get all tetchy on me, Gorram it, Hiccup, I'm tryn'a help you."

Hiccup closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "There's no way in hell you're gonna be able to help me." The battle was coming back again, a tide that rose and fell over the course of his day, never quite ebbing completely.

He could hear Astrid taking a slow breath in, then out. Her voice was softer. "I know you're not gonna get better lickity-split but you can't keep on like this. Just because the war's over don't mean the battle ain't. I know that 's well as anybody. But you're captain of Serenity now, and you got a crew to look after. Got more people out in the 'verse to look after better 'n the Alliance."

Hiccup stared down at his prosthetic, an engineered piece he'd come up with on his own, for ease getting around Serenity. He could almost feel his old foot, the rest of his calf. If he closed his eyes and focused just so, he could bend his ankle. What Astrid was telling him was true, he knew that much. But all the good days in the 'verse didn't seem to matter when he had one bad one to send all the good ones crumbling to bits.

"Hiccup, you might want to see this," Fishleg's voice came from over the intercom.

Hiccup suppressed a groan. There was trouble, then. He glanced to Astrid over the freight truck they were readying for the journey to the Alliance-run bank. Her eyes met his as she lowered a box of tools onto the floor and pushed it under the seat.

He tried to ignore the circles under her eyes and the dimness in her gaze. He hadn't gone back to bed the previous night after their spat, and he could tell that she hadn't gotten any sleep either. But now wasn't the time for thinking of his own marital squabbles with a good old fashioned bank robbery to commit.

They headed up to the bridge in silence, running into Snotlout with an array of weapons spread out on the kitchen table. He was wearing his—stupidly silly in Hiccup's opinion—silvery grey hat that his mother had sent him a while back, and was busy loading several Nadders into slots on his belt.

"Grenades, Snotlout, really?" Astrid said from behind him. "We're robbing a bank, not fighting a war."

Snotlout shook his head, looking sadly at the two of them. "Good thing no one asked your opinion, Astrid."

Hiccup could tell Astrid was only rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "Good thing you don't need to ask for mine. No grenades."

Snotlout groaned. "Grenades are fun. Best part about these boring gorram theft-y jobs."

He heard Astrid punch the man in the arm as they passed. "Stop your whining. It's gettin' awful old."

Fishlegs looked over his shoulder as they took the stairs to the bridge two at a time. The usually dim room was lit with the orange-red glow of the planet out the front views.

"What's the trouble?"

"Shouldn't bother to worry something about it now, but looks like there's an Alliance vessel not far out." He gestured to the circular screen on the board where a fuzzy distorted rectangle slowly made its way in the same direction they were headed. "They shouldn't land until after you're done with the bank, but it'll be terrible close."

Just another thing to add to the pot. Hiccup ran a hand back through his hair, taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm the stress seeping through his tired limbs. "How much time before they land?"

Fishlegs tapped a few buttons and looked at the radar screen again. He mumbled a few things to himself.

"Hiccup, we have to get that payroll," Astrid murmured. "Ship's gonna fall apart without it."

He leaned over the dashboard, looking out at the planet, the few clouds wisping over the surface. The small city—settlement more like—wasn't even visible yet. "Don't think I don't know that. Engine needs some fixin. Got a crew to feed. Need fuel soon." Life after the war was supposed to have been better; no Alliance to breathe down the back of everyone's necks. With the war lost, now they were only reaching further over the border planets, with the Browncoats smuggling and stealing their way into meager rations and an ever more difficult way of flying underneath the Alliance's nose.

"We got about half hour to get into atmo and land. Staying on the safe side means getting in and out of that bank in another half hour."

Hiccup met Astrid's eyes, but she looked away. "We don't exactly do much business on the safe side."

"Hour tops. We'd be riding their exhaust out."

Hiccup nodded. "Let's get ready to rob ourselves a bank."

There was nowhere to hide from the sun on Demeter. The hot plains and plateaus of the rocky land stretched endlessly in every direction, the shade of the brick buildings barely any relief from the summer heat. The small prairie town erected in the dust was busy but not crowded as Hiccup, Astrid, and Snotlout rode in the open-topped cargo transport through the dusty streets.

"You sure this won't get us in trouble with the Feds?" Snotlout asked in a not-so-quiet voice as Hiccup stopped in front of the cleanest building in the town, labeled with Alliance-crafted steel letters: Unity Bank. Go figure.

"They can report us all they like," Astrid said, hopping over the edge of the door. Hiccup said nothing, pocketing the key and pulling his leather coat over the revolver at his hip. "But they're not gonna admit that a couple of Browncoats came in and took them for all they had, 'specially not out here. Wouldn't want people getting the idea that they can stand up to the Feds and come out better off."

Snotlout squinted at Astrid. "I don't get it."

"Of course you don't," Astrid mumbled as they strode inside. The inside shone with fluorescent lights against a concrete floor.

They paused inside the door, Hiccup tallying up the number of people inside. Seven civilians, three workers. Doable.

"All right," he said loud enough for everyone to hear. "On the ground. No trouble for y'all today so's long as you cooperate." He pulled his revolver out of its holster, keeping the barrel down. Point a gun at a man and he tends to get the wrong idea. Or maybe the right one.

Beside him he could hear Astrid unsling her rifle from her back. Several of the civilians dropped almost immediately, as if they were used to being in that sort of situation, others took a few seconds to register what was happening before they lowered to the floor.

"Now we're only here for alliance money, none of you folks', so just sit tight and we'll be gone in no time." He strode behind the counter while Astrid and Snotlout circled the room, keeping an eye on the men and women on the floor.

"Where's the safe?"

The middle aged man in the ratty suit didn't meet his eyes, just pointing to a back door.

"Come on and open it," Hiccup said, jerking his head towards the door. He glanced at the clock. It had already been twenty minutes since they'd left Serenity outside of town. "And hurry it up."

The back room consisted of nothing but a large steel safe against one wall and a table and a few chairs. Hiccup followed the man over to it, keeping an eye on the open door behind them while the man turned the dial from one number to the next.

Nerves were beginning to coil in his chest. Sooner they got out the better. Alliance were always too close for comfort. He was sweating under his heavy coat and his fingers were clenched tight around the grip of his sidearm. At long last, he heard the final click, and the man pulled down the heavy latch, swinging open the door.

Hiccup peered inside, keeping an eye on the man. The safe was dusty, with a small stack of cash against one wall, a few rolls of coins barely visible in the back. Another smaller box rested on the floor, the same synthetic material that Alliance-made cargo crates were constructed from. "And for that one?"

"I-I don't know the—" the man started, but Hiccup's brows drew together, and he cocked his revolver, aiming at the man's head.

"Neither do I have the time or patience for this. You open that safe box or I'll open your head."

The man's eyes widened, and his hands shot up in surrender. "I really don't—"

"He doesn't know," Astrid said from behind him.

Hiccup turned, and stopped short at the sight of his wife with her hands behind her back, grey-uniformed Alliance soldiers standing behind. Astrid's mouth was slanted sideways in a scowl while the Feds pointed a stun gun at Hiccup.

"You're under arrest for the attempted robbery of Federation property," one of the men said, "Put down your weapon and we won't shoot."

"Well ain't that a pretty load of crap," Hiccup said, looking between the two Feds in the doorway. Astrid's scowl turned into a warning look and she gave the ever-so-slightest shake of her head. _Don't_, he knew she was saying.

And then he turned his gun, shooting the Fed who'd spoken straight through the head. The other one shot, and Hiccup took the force on his hip, sending him thumping back into the wall, vision blurring.

After a few moments, the ringing in his ears faded and he could see Astrid's bound wrists around the Fed's neck. He tugged at her arms, eyes bulging as he tried to jerk from her grasp.

Another concussive blast came from the main room. Astrid jolted forwards to the floor, knocking the Fed aside. Hiccup scrambled for his dropped gun, shooting the disorientated soldier before he could get up.

There'd be more Feds soon enough. They needed out. He flipped Astrid onto her back and she held her head, a welt already beginning to appear just below her blond hairline.

"Get the money," she groaned, stumbling to her feet.

The smaller crate was heavy, but he lugged it along with his right arm, keeping his revolver in his better hand. They'd have to pry it open later.

"Didn't think the Feds'd show up this early," Astrid said as Hiccup sliced through the plastic binding her wrists.

"Have to deal with it now," he grunted, sliding his knife back onto his belt. "Snotlout?"

But his answer came with the rapid fire of a familiar rifle from the other room. A woman screamed. Civilians always getting scared at a little blood. At least it wasn't theirs.

Hiccup looked back towards the bank teller, who was pressed against the back wall, saying nothing. "You stay here until we're gone, you hear me?"

The man nodded, but Hiccup was already turning, peering out the door way. Several Feds were still coming in the door. Snotlout shot from behind the teller's desk while the grey suits tried to find cover behind what they could.

Hiccup's heart stilled in his chest as he steadied his hand. Shot once. Twice.

"Gorram it, Hiccup," Snotlout shouted from behind the counter. "I was gonna get those."

The remaining Fed took one look at his fallen comrades and dropped his gun, lifting his hands up.

Astrid took ahold of the lock box, holding it between them. "How'd they get here so fast?"

The civilians still in the room were crowded against one wall, shaken, but none were hurt. Hiccup glanced over them to be sure that they'd last before focusing on the remaining Alliance soldier.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked.

The Fed, young looking, perhaps new to the job, shrunk away from the three coming towards him. "Down the street. Got an emergency call from down the street. We were waiting to be picked up on our flight off this God-forsaken planet." His eyes shifted from Hiccup, across Snotlout to Astrid.

Not from the ship. They still had time, then.

"Should we get rid of him?" Snotlout grunted, shifting his grip on his rifle. "I've got an itch in my finger for some more Alliance idiots."

The man backed up a little, panic in his voice. "No, no, no, you really don't want to do that. I'm really not much trouble, I promise."

He was sweating through his uniform, stains where the collar met his neck. He couldn't have been more than twenty five. His eyes pleaded mercy.

"Lock him in the back room," Hiccup said after a moment.

"Can't have any fun around here," Snotlout grumbled to himself as he grabbed the Fed by the elbow.

When he and Astrid emerged with the lock box in tow, the street seemed quieter than it had been five minutes ago. They tossed it in the back of the vehicle and Hiccup hopped into the driver's seat. Astrid had the communicator off of her belt. "Fishlegs, you there?"

An uneven reply came through. "Ready to leave? Alliance is only fifteen minutes away."

Hiccup bit at his lip and bobbed his knee impatiently as several men down the street began to give them odd looks, pointing. Last thing they needed was a crowd on their hands.

"You'd better start for town. We're on our way," Astrid said just as Snotlout pushed open the door to the bank.

And with that, they were off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake as they headed to meet Serenity.

Astrid picked at the leather of the armrest in the captain's chair opposite Fishlegs's. The yellow foam was starting to show through the cracks. _Just one more thing that could do with some fixin round here_, she thought and eyed over the list of repairs on the notepad in front of her. Screw-y catalyzer in the engine, plating on the hull beginning to fracture, dings and dents all along the bow, to say nothing of the cracked infirmary window, the finicky electrical wiring of one of the shuttle doors, and the numerous lightbulbs that needed replacing. The Alliance pay check in the lockbox would cover one necessary repair and enough protein and vitamin supplements for a month, but that didn't mean there weren't plenty of other things shipboard to get done.

She saw Fishlegs examining the image board for a few seconds before returning to setting the course for the closest fueling station out on the reaches.

"No one following, is there?" Astrid asked.

Fishlegs shook his head. "Luckily not. Should've been more careful. Hiccup isn't exactly the hardest person to identify."

No, a one legged Browncoat smuggler wasn't exactly the hardest person to remember. "We didn't have a choice, had to make the ruckus we did."

"I'm just saying, maybe next time, opt for a stealthier plan?"

"The problem wasn't the plan." The chair creaked as she leaned back in it, propping her feet on the dashboard.

Astrid winced at the clank of Hiccup's foot on the metal stairs leading up to the bridge. "Problem is never the plan," Hiccup said from the threshold. "Problem is always the gorram Alliance."

Astrid swiveled back around to look out the window. How bitter could the man get? "Maybe if we started taking legal jobs, we'd be able to keep Serenity in the sky," she muttered.

"Whose saying we can't take legal jobs?"

"I'm not trying to blame anyone," she said slowly. "I'm just saying that maybe if we tried some different approaches—" She bit her tongue before she could finish, knowing she'd go too far (as always, it seemed as of late). Fishlegs was staring straight ahead out the window, hands clutched to the steering that wasn't even engaged.

"I'm not having this ship take no alliance money. We ain't sympathizers."

Astrid took a deep breath, speaking slowly. "Bank robberies and drug smuggling ain't gonna keep us in the sky for long. Hiccup, we need real work." She turned around and saw his shoulders tense through his green shirt. The bags under his eyes mirrored her own.

"Astrid—"

She strode over and took his hands, suddenly aware of the pain that would come suddenly for him, as pain usually does. "I'm not saying that you or anyone else should forget him. I'm only saying that we have the crew to think about now. And if that means taking Alliance money, so what? At least it wouldn't be theirs anymore."

He was quiet for a moment, head bowed. After he'd taken a deep breath, then let it out slowly, he finally spoke. "I'll think about it."

He backed up, not even meeting Astrid's searching eyes before striding back down the stairs and out of the bridge.

Astrid crossed her arms while the repairman eyed the hull of Serenity. Hiccup was off scavenging for any usable engine parts from the junkyard with Fishlegs, and Snotlout was picking up their supplies in town. The youth who'd scaled ladder propped against Serenity's side was crawling across the domed roof above the mess hall. He looked no more than twenty, but he seemed to know well enough what he was doing.

"There's quite a few dings up here," he called down. "It ain't pretty. What kinda flyin' you even doin'?"

Astrid flicked her braid over her shoulder. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

He lifted his hands up. "No chit chat? Fine by me, Ma'am."

She glanced around the rusted warehouse. There were stacks of sheet metal propped haphazardly against one wall and an area off to the side where the owner of the shop was soldering two engine parts together.

A sharp bang came from Serenity.

"Hey, watch it!" Astrid yelled as the boy tripped along the line of the hull. "I'm paying you to fix my ship, not bang it up."

"Sorry, ma'am, won't happen again."

She turned as the owner of the shop came over to her. "Thomas, you be careful, I ain't got the patience for another of your clumsy accidents. How many sheets think we'll need?"

"Three, I think. Maybe another half," the boy said as he started to clamber down the ladder.

"Pardon my boy. He's the best help I can get on this moon," the older man said, taking off one blackened leather glove to shake Astrid's hand. "We'll have your ship done by five."

"How much you charge?"

"Fifty a sheet."

Astrid raised her eyebrows. "One fifty's a steep price for just a hull repair."

"I've got to eat too, you know."

"Thirty apiece."

"Forty-five."

"I can only go as high as forty," Astrid said, shrugging. She put her hands on her hips under her coat, the tails falling open to reveal the gun on her hip. Not that it would come to violence. But she'd found that showing a man that she was at least armed tended to make him just a mite more cooperative.

"Done," he said, glancing down to the revolver holster on her thigh. "Half a payment now, half when you pick 'er up this evenin."

After Astrid had exchanged the down payment for a ticket, she paused a moment. "You wouldn't happen to know of any work for a good crew like ours around these parts? We're a quick and capable transport of any kind."

The man pocketed the slips of paper and scratched as his patchy beard. "Can't say that I do, actually."

The boy who'd walked past them with a cart of tools paused. "Thought you needed those goods moved—"

"Hush your mouth, kid, you don't know nuthin," the man hissed quickly.

Astrid watched the interaction with curiosity, cocking one hip out.

The middle aged man shook his head, looking to Astrid apologetically. "Sorry 'bout that, he's mistaken."

"Sure 'bout that? I wasn't fibbing when I said we move any cargo. 'Cept humans of course. Got nuthin to do with that. But we ain't the type for question askin'."

He narrowed his eyes. "How do I know you'll follow through?"

"Here's how I look at it," she said with a sly smile. "Don't suppose you've got much traffic on this moon of yours. People stop by for repairs and fuel o' course, but out here, there's not many who travel very far outta the system. I figure you don't get many a ship as big as ours—and even she ain't no monstrous ship at that—and certainly not willing to carry anything that might fix to get them in trouble with the law. Way I see it, you don't got much of a choice when it comes to us."

The man glared at the boy, then looked slowly back to Astrid. There was still suspicion in his eyes, but he at least looked like he might be open to a deal. "And what if we hire you?"

"Then we do the job, and get paid. Move your goods as quick as we can to wherever you want it."

"What'd you say your name was?"

"Astrid Haddock."

The man squinted at her for a moment, then glanced to Serenity. "You know, I think I've gotten wind of you and your ship. Browncoat crew led by a one-legged man. Hard to forget. Sure, you can move my cargo. You've got yourself a job."

The canvas-wrapped scrap metal and steel sheets filled up the cargo bay nicely, Hiccup thought. It felt good for once to have something that took up some space. Made him feel as if they were actually making some money. He'd paused for a moment to look at the smuggled goods, glad for a moment that they had a job that seemed like it'd go down without a hitch. All that was left to do was to land, hand over the goods, and get paid. No complications.

"Capt'n, we have a problem," came Fishlegs's voice from over the intercom. "Could you come up to the bridge?"

Hiccup sighed. Just once. One hand off to go smoothly. That was all he was asking for. He set up the stairs, and his foot slipped slightly on one of them. A curse slipped out as he grasped onto the railing. "Damned leg," he muttered, setting himself straight.

Astrid, Snotlout, and Fishlegs were gathered already, Astrid leaning against the dashboard, braid over one shoulder. Hiccup didn't miss the gun already at her hip.

"What's the trouble?"

"This guy, Alvin—" Fishlegs started, voice hesitant.

Snotlout snickered. "Alvin, whose named Alvin anymore?"

Hiccup ignored him. "Yes, Alvin, what about him?"

"He cut off the deal."

Hiccup frowned. Of all the stupid. . . He crossed his arms. "Say why?"

Fishlegs looked down at the comm screen, scrolling through a few sentences of text. "I was just asking for a rendezvous point. Told him you were the captain, and he just said he wouldn't deal with you."

"With me? I've never even met the guy! There's gotta be something else goin' on here. Tell him he comes to the rendezvous point, or we come to him."

"I really don't think. . ."

"Just do it."

Astrid's mouth was a firm line, and it was difficult to read her expression. Hiccup hoped it was determination and not frustration.

Fishlegs relented and typed a message in on the keyboard on his right.

"Why can't we just find another buyer?" Snotlout questioned. "If he don't wanna deal, then how we gonna convince him?"

"I'd say that gun of yours will do plenty of convincing," Hiccup said, gesturing to the weapon holstered against his leg.

Astrid let out a huff of a breath. "For once, I think Snotlout may be right, Hiccup."

Hiccup turned to his wife. "I appreciate your opinion, but we've already got a shipping payment. We can't afford to leave without makin' a deal."

"Here's an idea," Snotlout said. "Take the down payment and leave. We shipped it for sure, just maybe not where he wants it to go to."

"We're good and honest folk—well actually we ain't. But that don't mean we don't try to go down with the deal anyway. I say we land and deal with this Alvin however we can."

The comm unit beeped. Fishlegs bent over the screen.

"Alvin just says he'll be at the rendezvous spot in two hours."

Hiccup ground his jaw. No one gave in that easily. He hadn't even asked about the selling price or tried to barter them down.

The room was silent for a few moments until Astrid spoke up. "There's no way he's gonna make the deal." She looked to Hiccup. "Maybe you shouldn't go. Doesn't sound like he'd take too kindly to you being there."

"I have the right to know why he doesn't want to trade with me, and I plan on asking him that myself."

Astrid stared at him a moment in frustration, but then her expression eased into acceptance. "All right. So what do we do?"

One side of Hiccup's mouth rose in a smile, and he glanced around to his crew. "We show this _Alvin_ that we mean business."

"Could there be a worse spot?" Astrid huffed, looking down at the canyon worn into the surface of the moon. The river had since dried up, leaving a silted creek bed and a prime spot for an ambush.

Next to her, Hiccup leaned over the edge of the cliff, peering down into the canyon. "Nope. This is pretty bad."

Suddenly Snotlout reached a hand out, shushing them both. His face was suddenly serious as he glanced around.

"I think I heard something."

Hiccup listened for anything, but only heard the shuffle of the dry shrubs in the slow breeze. "I don't hear a thing."

Snotlout held firm and motion caught Hiccup's eye. From far down the canyon, he could see several riders heading along the riverbed.

"They're on their way," he pointed. "Snotlout, you get into position. Don't fire unless I give the word." He fished the earpieces out of his coat pocket and handed one to each of them.

"Unless we get shot," Astrid added. "Then you kill 'em all."

"Shiny."

Hiccup clicked the switch on and put the earpiece in as he and Astrid started down the zig zag pathway leading to the bottom of the canyon.

"They've spotted us," Astrid said from behind him. Hiccup looked up to see the four men on horseback stop a few hundred yards away. The biggest man there towered above all the rest, dark beard and hair tangled down the front of his grey-green jacket. His horse stomped at the hard earth.

Hiccup's prosthetic suddenly caught in a rock and the silt gave way under him. Astrid let out a little noise of surprise, but caught him under the arm, setting him right.

"Gorram thing," he muttered, setting off at once, knowing that Alvin must've seen. Four men against three weren't too bad odds. But then again, the odds always seemed to be against them.

The air weighed down on his lungs by the time they'd reached the bottom, sweat breaking out on his back and forehead. As they closed the distance between them and the horses, Snotlout's crackly voice came through the earpiece. "Can you hear me?"

"You're coming through good and clear," Hiccup said.

"Me too."

Closer up, Alvin's stature became more apparent. The hat that shielded the sun from his eyes was well worn leather, and his black beard, greying around his mustache, could have gone years without a comb. He was big. As big as Hiccup's father. Two men and a woman accompanied him, middle aged and weather beaten.

"You must be the Haddock's boy, huh," Alvin grunted, looking him up and down. "Always heard you were a runt. Not much has changed."

Hiccup hooked his thumbs into his belt, trying not to let the surprise show on his face. Few knew he and his father were related, or even that he'd had a son. "And you're Alvin."

"That's right," he replied, saddle creaking as he shifted in it.

"Now I'm still tryin' to figure out why you didn't want to deal with me," Hiccup said. "I got nuthin against you. Just want to do my job."

"Now see, you maybe've got no grudge against me, but I'm well aware of your role during the war, Sergeant."

Hiccup stiffened. Astrid glanced in his direction with a worried expression. "You got no business bringing that up," she said, a hint of worry in her voice. "War's done."

"War like that ain't ever over," Alvin said, keeping his eyes on Hiccup.

A vague memory slid into Hiccup's mind, a strange bearded man coming to their home, laughing with his father as if they were old friends. He'd never seen the man again. He wanted to ask about his father, but instead he pulled the small engine part from his back pocket, tossing it over to the man on his left.

"Engine parts and scrap metal are under a tarp bout a mile down the canyon. Shouldn't be hard to find."

The man handed the part over to Alvin who gave it a once over. "Now what's to prevent me from waltzin' right over you and taking it for myself?"

Hiccup ran through the scenario in his mind. Snotlout shoots maybe two of them, and then they fight the other two with no cover to hide behind. Not the best combination. They had to keep them talking. "Well I'd want to know why we can't just deal like civilized men."

Alvin was quiet for a moment and reached down, pulling a leather drawstring pouch from the saddlebag. It jingled with coins. He bounced it once in his large palm. "You know, I'd say you're exactly what I expected of Stoick's little disappointment."

This time he couldn't hide the surprise. Stoick was a nickname for friends and family. The curiosity was too much to not question. "How did you know my father?"

Astrid reached out to his arm as he stepped forward. A warning. To not let this get too out of control.

"Want me to shoot?" Snotlout asked, a little too eagerly. "I can shoot all you want. Don't like this guy."

"Wait," Astrid growled softly.

"We were comrades, you know. Just because we didn't speak for years don't mean I didn't mourn his death."

Hiccup had a bad feeling he knew where this was going.

"If it's anyone's fault he's gone, it's yours. And I ain't exactly a fancy businessman, but I got standards. And I don't do any deals with murderers."

Hiccup almost didn't know what to think. "All right, Snotlout. Have at it." Astrid had her rifle aimed before he'd even drawn his gun.

The woman fell from her horse at the crack of Snotlout firing from the lip of the canyon. Astrid took one of the men down as he was fumbling for his weapon.

Alvin was fast though, and he'd fired at Hiccup before he could aim. The shot took him straight in the chest, bruising against his armor. He stumbled backwards and fell on his backside in the dust.

"Don't hold up against much, do ya?" Alvin snorted as he regained control of his spooked horse, but Hiccup lifted his revolver, ignoring the throb in his chest.

Another shot echoed from Snotlout's direction and the third man fell.

He shot once in Alvin's leg, again in his shoulder. The force sent him tumbling off his horse, which cantered off down the ravine.

Astrid held her rifle on him, barking orders not to move. "You all right?" she asked to Hiccup, eyes traveling down to the bullet hole in his shirt.

He nodded, pulling his shirt open while he was still on his back. "Looks like it." The thin armor was dented, and the skin underneath tender, but he was fine.

"Who's the best sniper around?" Snotlout said smugly.

Astrid only rolled her eyes and ignored him while Hiccup got to his feet. He strode over to Alvin, one hand rubbing the sore spot right along the edge of his ribs. He pulled the hammer back and pointed the barrel at Alvin's forehead.

"Neither of us are no saints, but that don't mean we have to go callin' each other names. I'll pardon your not-so-kind words against me this once, and I'll take my money." He pulled the bag from Alvin's slack grasp. The man glared up at him with contempt. "But if you ever try to cross me or my crew again, you can be sure I'll be less forgiving."

He held Alvin's gaze until the man looked away and then pulled his gun back. He and Astrid retreated without a problem.

Hiccup winced as he pressed the ice pack against his bare ribs, over the wide purple bruise that had radiated out from the bullet's impact. Astrid watched carefully, giving him a towel to hold over it. He let out a sigh and leaned back against the counter of the infirmary.

"I'm really okay, you know," he said. "It's just a bruise."

"You don't let me do things for you often. I gotta jump on all the opportunities I can," she said through a smile. She'd taken her jacket off and rolled up the sleeves of her blue knit shirt. Though her clothes suggested informality, there was still a terse set to her shoulders.

"I let you take care of me plenty of times."

She crossed her arms, taking a firm stance. "Hell no you don't."

He snorted through a laugh. "All right, fine, maybe I don't."

She leaned against the counter next to him, arm pressing against his. Her smile gradually eased, and she bit at her lip.

He'd be a fool if he didn't know what was coming.

"Hiccup, I know you're still dealing with. . . with everything that happened, but don't for one second think that you're to blame for any of this."

The dangerous thoughts were beginning to rise again, pushing at his mind. _Murderer_. His stomach was beginning to go numb with cold, both from the outside and the inside. "Alvin seemed to think so."

"Well Alvin is a ben tian sheng de yi dui rou."

He couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't."

She pulled his chin up. "He is. You can't listen when people say things like that, because they aren't true."

He searched her face for a response, for an answer, but he found none. The black and purple bruise against her head from the bank robbery was just beginning to yellow. He changed the subject. "At least we've got some extra coin for the time being."

"Gotta pick up Heather in a few days anyway. Maybe we can find some more work on Ariel," Astrid said, the unspoken question hanging in her voice. He'd never liked taking jobs from Core planets if he could help it.

But now. . . now maybe he should consider it. "I think that would be a good idea."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Astrid suddenly punched him in the arm.

"What the hell, Astrid!" he yelled, rubbing his bare arm. "I thought you liked when I agreed with you?!"

She sauntered towards the infirmary doors, looking over her shoulder. "That was for scaring me to death seeing you get shot."

He let out a long sigh, trying to keep a smile at bay. If Astrid was punching him again, that at least meant that he was doing something right.

Snotlout, who'd been lazing around on the couch outside the infirmary, sat up. "How come you don't get scared when someone fires at me?"

"'Cause I don't care if you get shot, idiot," she threw back. "And we ain't married, thank God."

"Oh, all right. . . wait a minute, hey!"

Hiccup chuckled, then stopped, wincing at the throb of his aching ribs. Sure as hell there were better places to be than this old ship, but in that moment, he couldn't think of a single one.

**Thanks for checking this out! Let me know what you thought of it. **

**Chinese Dictionary in the Firefly Universe for your translating needs: wiki/Dictionary**


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